


Driving towards you

by academy_x



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambiguous Relationships, F/F, Multi, POV Eleanor Guthrie, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 02:50:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6886312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/academy_x/pseuds/academy_x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anne wants to borrow Eleanor's car to fetch Max who is stuck in a forrest, but there is no way in hell Eleanor will let her drive it so there is only one option left. Eleanor has to come along. That will be fun.</p><p>
  <i>"I'll come pick you up. Twenty minutes. Be ready." Eleanor says and hangs up.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Driving towards you

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [CaptainRivaini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainRivaini/pseuds/CaptainRivaini) in the [pirate_prompts_2016](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/pirate_prompts_2016) collection. 



> _I'd love to read something where Eleanor and Anne have to team up (AGAIN) despite their antagonism with each other in order to save Max. Doesn't need to be from something completely tragic. Can be AU of any sort!_

Eleanor is almost happy when the phone rings. She has been staring at the numbers on the screen for hours, trying to make sense of the ridiculous budget Naft has submitted for review.  _How the fuck did she end up with such an incompetent partner?_  She sighs, not for the first time that day. The air-conditioner broke hours ago, and she feels like she is sweating frustration. Yes, hearing the phone ring almost makes her smile. It presents a welcome distraction. Then she notices the name on the caller id. Anne Bonny.  _Wonderful._

"Hello, this is Eleanor Guthrie." She says pleasantly.

"Can I borrow your car?" Anne asks without introduction.

Eleanor's grip on the phone tightens. Images of Anne Bonny in her car flash through her mind. She would drive too fast, without care. Eleanor's beautiful car would be a burning wreck when she got it back. Just thinking about it makes her heart beat quicker.

"Absolutely not."

The line goes silent for a few beats as Anne considers how to proceed, if she should just give up. Eleanor can almost hear the gear of Anne's brain turning. She catches herself tapping the floor and immediately stops. It is not like she is eager to go back to work. She will be patient. Eventually Anne speaks.

"Can I borrow your car? It's for Max, not me."

"What's going on? Is she in trouble? Why do you need my car? I don't ..!" Eleanor asks, understanding nothing but not wanting to admit that.

"Look, Max went hiking, and Silver fucked up his foot so he couldn't walk, and they're stuck miles away from any bus stop and can't even get cell reception, she had to call me from a fucking landline, anyway I really need to come get them, and I woulda just taken Jack's van but it's in the shop so can I just borrow your god-damn car so I can fetch my girlfriend, please?"

Anne says please like a swearword and does not mention that Jack's car is broken because she and Charles were racing on a field, and she had swerved to avoid hitting a stray goat only to crash straight into a tree. She desperately needs that car. Eleanor is quietly impressed with her determination. She cannot remember ever hearing Anne saying so many words in one sentence. Impressed or not though, there is no way in hell Eleanor will let Anne drive her car so there is only one option left. She has to come along.  _That will be fun._

"I'll come pick you up. Twenty minutes. Be ready." Eleanor says and hangs up.

\----

Her car is sleek and dark-blue. Eleanor got it as a birthday present for herself, some years ago, on a whim, and she cannot imagine getting rid of it. It handles perfectly, floating over the road, and even narrow city streets, with their twists and turns, are no problem. She loves driving this car, loves the hum of the engine, how the sunshine bounces of the polished exterior. Anne, on the other hand, seems less than impressed. 

"Can't it go any faster?" Anne asks.

"It needs to warm up." Eleanor answers.

Anne rolls down the window and pushes back into the leather seat behind her. She is not wearing the seatbelt. Eleanor frowns, but says nothing. She has both hands on the wheel and stares straight ahead.  _It's going to be long drive._

\----

They have barely left the city, and already trees peak up everywhere. Anne pulls out her phone and calls Jack. Eleanor does her best not to listen, but it is hard with just the two of them in the car. She picks up fragments, away for a couple of days - Max - enjoy the heat - Max - my dog needs - Max - you have the keys - Max - tell him I said, but she has trouble connecting it. Eleanor feels very far away from Anne, from people in general. She has no one to call, no one she needs to inform of her leaving town. For a minute she almost considers calling Flint, but he would probably not pick up. He does not even have a cell phone, only a landline that he is never near. Besides they do not have that kind of friendship. Besides it would be ridiculous, and she prides herself on being sensible and independent.

Anne ends her call, and Eleanor starts a conversation to distract herself. She brings up the weather. Her work. How nice it is outside the city. The result of some football game she could not care less about. Then the weather again. Anne responds to all her questions and comments with grunts and one-word answers. Getting desperate, she brings up the one thing Eleanor promised herself not to mention. 

"So, how is Charles?" 

"Doing fine. Still living in the same shitty apartment. Him and Jack are repainting it this week." Anne says. "Because the walls are yellow-y from the smoking."

"Yes. I remember." Eleanor replies.

Her relationship with Charles had lasted longer than both of them had expected. Every time she had stayed at his place, she had driven home with the smell of smoke clinging to her for days. It had been like a never-ending embrace, a reminder of him. At first she had loved it. Then she had hated it. Eventually it had all gone up in flames.  _It often does when she is involved._

Eleanor has spotted him a couple of times in the last months, seen him standing two aisles over in a grocery store or crossing the street without waiting for the green light. Their last real encounter was a drunken one night stand on New Year's Eve that they both enjoyed and regretted. That same night she made a resolution to stop hanging on to the past, which she has followed with varying degrees of success. Shortly afterwards she got a new boyfriend with a silly name and a bland face, one that she knew her father would approve of. 

Still Eleanor is here, stuck in a car with Anne Bonny of all people. The air is hot and heavy with silence. Anne says nothing else about Charles. She reaches out and turns on the radio, landing on the first and best channel. Melodic jazz flows from the speakers, mingling with the rhythm of the engine. Anne taps along with her foot and looks out the window. She is smiling.

"I didn't know you liked jazz." Eleanor says.  _Of course she didn't. She knows little about Anne._

Anne shrugs.

 "Me too."

\----

Anne yawns and blows hair out of her eyes. She is fiddling with a black marker she found in the glove compartment. It balances between her fingers. She pops the lid off and begins colouring her nails. It smudges and gets all over her fingers.

"What're you doing?" Eleanor asks, puzzled.

"Painting my nails. It's better with a permanent marker, this one's a piece of shit." Anne says. "You never done it like this?"

Eleanor does not answer. Anne finishes her left hand, does not bother filling in the ones on the right. She moves on to doodling, her skin the canvas. On her wrist she draws a heart and writes MAX inside with blocky capital letters. Eleanor pretends not to notice. Her cheeks heat up. Something like jealousy churns in her gut.

"You want a tattoo or something?" Eleanor asks.

Anne shakes her head, looks intently at the snake she is drawing on her arm.

"Why not? You scared of needles?"

Anne says nothing, she looks embarrassed. Her ears are not pierced, Eleanor notices.

"I have one. On my back." Eleanor says. "I can show it to you when we stop if you want."

Anne grunts noncommitally, but when they pull over the next time, to eat a late lunch, she insists on seeing it. Eleanor takes off her shirt, tells herself to be calm. Her back is an ocean, big swirling waves looping around each other, light blue and dotted with white foam. Anne is quiet. She reaches out, traces the lines with a fingertip. Eleanor shivers in the summer heat.

"It's beautiful." Anne says.

\----

"So Max really went camping?" Eleanor asks, she needs to justify this venture.

"Hiking. With John Silver." Anne says. "Some other guys too, I think."

"Who?"

"Don't know their names. Tall guy and his dad with the illuminati tattoo." Anne says.

Immediately Eleanor tries to think of all the men she knows, comparing them to Anne's less than satisfactory description. She does not get very far. Her mind keeps returning to the fact that Max really went camping.  _Max never went camping with her._ Eleanor had suggested it once, figured it would be romantic to be just the two of them in a tent, snuggled up in front of the campfire. Max had laughed at her and asked if she looked like someone belonging in a forrest. Eleanor had laughed, too, and told her she was too gorgeous for nature. At the time, she remembers, Max had been wearing heavy eyeliner, five-inch heels and jeans so tight that Eleanor had been impressed she could walk. It is a fond memory, but it stings a little.  _She would have gone camping with Anne._  

Anne could have just walked out of the woods. Anne looks almost ethereal in the sunlight, with her sharp features and hair that shines like copper. Summer-freckles dance across her skin, and the tip of her nose is burned red. Her faded t-shirt has the sleeves cut off, clearly diy, and her arms are impressively toned. Eleanor catches herself gazing at them time and again. She notices that Anne has a scar on her right shoulder. Two small white lines that form something resembling a cross. Eleanor wants to ask about it. She is not sure she is ready for the answer.

\----

They stop at a mcdonalds off the road to eat dinner. Eleanor orders a menu, not paying attention to which. Anne orders an impossibly large numbers of fries and a cola. She gets a bunch of condiments with, mayonnaise and ketchup and spicy dip. Eleanor guides them to a booth, and they sit, facing each other. Anne empties five packs of salt on a napkin, creating a small mountain. She dips a french fry, covering it in so much salt that Eleanor winces. 

"You're just gonna eat the fries raw?" Eleanor asks. "No ketchup?"

"Don't like it." Anne says.

Elenanor gasps, horrified. She reaches for some ketchup, opens her burger and squeezes it all over.  _If Anne won't appreciate the joys of this world, she will._  The burger is tasty, in the way mcdonalds often is when you are eating it for the first time after a long absence. Eleanor takes big, fast bites. Anne shoves french fries in her face. They pick up their drinks simultaneously and take big sips through the straws. Anne drinks and drinks, shows no sign of stopping, so naturally Eleanor has to keep drinking too. Anne is the first to put down her cola. She smiles, victorious, and kicks playfully at Eleanor under the table. Then she shoves a ridiculous amount of french fries into her mouth, Eleanor stops counting after number seventeen. Anne chews for minutes before finally swallowing.

"Shit, now I have to eat all these fucking fries without cola." Anne says, realising the consequences of their impromptu competition.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't drown them in salt." Eleanor says. "Anyways just buy another."

"I don't want to talk to the cashier." Anne says.

Later, Eleanor gets up to go pee, and she brings back a coke for Anne and a vanilla mcflurry because she felt like it. Anne smiles at her and takes small sips, pacing herself instead of downing it in one go. Eleanor talks about where you can find the cleanest public toilets, certainly not here, and steals Anne's fries. Anne retaliates by dipping a french fry in the ice cream. Eleanor gags, then tries it herself, and she has to admit it tastes surprisingly decent. 

\----

It gets dark late and all at once in the summer. Eleanor yawns and hopes she finds a place to pull over soon. There is a mosquito buzzing inside the car, the natural result of driving with the windows down all day. Anne is very quiet in the seat next to her, so still that Eleanor assumes she is sleeping. They hit a bump in the road, and the car jumps. Eleanor curses the lack of upkeep on back roads. She glances at Anne who is sitting upright with wide eyes.  

"Do you ever think about how sad it is that most pure-breed dalmatians can't pee properly?" Anne asks.

"That's fucked up." Eleanor says earnestly. "Go back to sleep."

"I'm not tired." Anne slurs.

Five minutes later she is asleep and drooling down her chin. Eleanor takes care when she parks the car some kilometres down the road, so she does not disturb her.

\----

The sun hangs high, not a cloud on the sky. Eleanor finishes brushing her teeth and spits on the ground next to the car. She rinses her mouth with day-old water, splashes some it in her face. She can practically feel the heavy bags forming under her eyes. She yawns. Anne returns from peeing behind a bush. Her hair is messy from sleeping. She grabs her backpack, rummaging through it. Her search sends a sock and some spare change flying before she finds what she is looking for.

"No." Eleanor says.

"Come on." Anne says, drawing out the o. She holds up a six-pack of energy drinks, waves it temptingly. 

Eleanor shakes her head. Just looking at the cans wrapped in neon-coloured plastic makes her nauseous.  _It's not happening._

"You barely slept last night, I'm not letting you behind the wheel without at least two of these in your blood. Or you could let me drive." Anne suggests.

"Gimme the damn can, Bonny."

Anne laughs. 

\----

They stand in line at the checkout of a small gas station. A fan is rattling, but it produces no relief from the heat. The man in front of them is buying cigarettes and sunscreen. Eleanor is trying to convince herself to get something healthy for breakfast. She looks at the sad rye-bread sandwiches in the display and settles for a cinnamon bun and a banana instead. There is a postcard stand, and Anne is mesmerized by the glossy pictures. She rubs her thumb over one depicting a cartoonish map of the area, frowns at a card wishing a merry christmas.

"Should I buy a card?" Anne asks.

"We'll probably be back home tomorrow. Who would you even send it to?" Eleanor says.

"I dunno, Max maybe? She loves sappy shit like that." Anne says. "Or I could send one to Jack. Tell him even being in a hot car with you is better than looking at his ugly face." 

Eleanor laugs, a little. Anne ends up buying two postcards, one with a dog wearing sunglasses and one with some pine trees. Eleanor never sees her send any of them.

\----

Today is hotter than yesterday, and yesterday was hotter than the day before. Anne huffs and wipes a hand through her sweaty hair for the fifth time. Her face is flushed and hanging half-way out the window like a dog. Eleanor has never been happier that she choose to cut her hair off right below the ears. 

"Sometimes I just wanna shave it all off." Anne says, more to the air than Eleanor.

"Seriously?"

Anne nods. Images of her with a buzzcut, smirking for some reason, flood Eleanor's mind.  _It certainly looks good in her imagination._

"Huh ... you could pull it off, I think. You have the attitude." Eleanor says.

"Thanks." Anne answers, half-sincere. "Don't help me much at the moment." 

Eleanor is wearing the black skirt she bought specifically because it has pockets. In the left one she finds a hair-elastic and passes it to Anne who takes it without a word. She scoops all her hair up and ties it in a messy bun. She seems completely different, in a good way. Eleanor cannot believe how effortlessly beautiful it makes her look. Anne spends fifteen minutes smiling and not complaining about the heat, so Eleanor assumes she is grateful.

\----

The road splits into two. Eleanor pulls over for third time to consult a map.

"Don't you a gps or something?" Anne asks.

"In this car? You wouldn't make a rum 'n coke with a £100 bottle rum, that's been aged eight years in an oak barrel." Eleanor says sharply. 

"You coulda just said it won't work because your car is old as shit." Anne says.

Eleanor crumples the map. She tosses it aside. Her mouth opens and closes several times, she cannot get the words to work for her.  _Anne is not just wrong (completely wrong), she is so ...!  she has no respect ...!_ Eleanor grinds her teeth. She considers what to say, how to say it, so that Anne will understand.

Anne, perhaps sensing the angry monologue coming, picks up the map and unfolds it. She smooths out the creases and pushes the map to Eleanor, a silent peace offering. Eleanor follows a squiggly red line with her french-tipped fingernail and frowns deep in thought. Then she starts the car up again, having picked a course, and they drive on. Anne decides to trust Eleanor's navigational skills for now, since she herself has no chance of deciphering the angry and confusing lines that Eleanor claims they are following. 

\----

When they finally arrive, they find Max and John camping out at a picnic bench. They are both wearing the kind of ugly sunglasses you can only buy in gas stations. Their backpacks slouch against each other. The ground around them is littered with candy wrappers and half-empty soda bottles. Max is hanging over the table to braid John's hair. She is bored, and it keeps her hands busy. John's leg is resting on the bench, and his foot is wrapped with bandage and an improvised brace made from sticks, rope and scrap metal. It looks ridiculous.

"Jesus fuck, how did that happen?" Eleanor asks.

"Twisted my ankle. It's better than it looks I promise." John says with a disarming smile.

"Not gonna tell her the part where you fell 'cause you were too busy staring at Billy's ass to pay attention to your feet." Max says in a hushed stage-whisper.

Eleanor snorts.

\----

They load up the car with plenty of snacks and beverages and make sure everyone's bladders are empty before beginning the drive home. Max and Anne fit perfectly next to each other in the back seat, and Eleanor feels a stab of something, perhaps just irritation at being stuck with John Silver riding shotgun. John chews peanuts loudly and insists on turning the radio on to the most kitschy old pop station he can find. Eleanor almost misses when it was only her and Anne.

It takes exactly three songs for John to lose his hesitations and start singing along, loudly and off-key. He only knows the lyrics to half the songs, but that does not stop him.  _If only she had brought ear buds_. Eleanor grips the steering wheel tighter. Her knuckles stand out clearly, white and angry. She wonders which of the items in the car she could use to (hypothetically) murder John Silver.  _Perhaps Anne would know._

"Can you do a falsetto?" Max asks because she knows it will annoy Eleanor.

John's eyes go wide. He lets out an excited gasp. By some miracle or coincidence, Bee Gees with Staying Alive blares out of the speakers. John mumbles his way through the verse not using a single word that exists in real life, as far as Eleanor can tell. Max joins him in the chorus, shrieking more than singing. Their combined noise sounds more like something coming from a seal than a human.

When outro finally hits, both Max and John are out of air and laughing. Anne picks this moment to sing the chorus with an improvised melody. Somehow it harmonises perfectly. Max stifles her giggling. John's mouth fall open. The car swerves, a little.  The music fades, and Anne holds her last note an extra beat.  _Suffering through Silver's singing was almost worth it to experience this._

"The fuck you all looking at me for?" Anne says.

Max leans over to give her a big smoochy kiss. 

\----

"Are you still with that guy, what's his name ... Woody something?" Max asks neutrally, like a skilled diplomath.

Max knows that Eleanor knows that Max knows that his name is actually Woodes. She still calls him Woody. Eleanor almost finds it amusing, but the breakup is a fresh wound, too close to laugh at. She had dumped him almost by accident. He had invited her along on a family vacation to some all-inclusive holiday sports resort, and she had said no because she loathed bingo, mini-golf and being criticized by Woodes' parents. In the adrenaline rush of rejecting his offer, she had blurted out that their relationship was over. Looking back, it was probably the right decision, but every time she thinks about it, she gets flashes of what her life could have been if they had stayed together, living in the suburbs with an appropriate amount of children and two cars, having brunch with the neighbourhood ladies and talking about the school board and lawn regulations. Eleanor does not no if such a life exists or if she simply has watched to much tv.

"I broke up with Woodes." Eleanor says.

Max is silent, her face like a mask. Anne laughs.

"What?" Eleanor asks.

"Nothing. Just a funny name is all." Anne says.

"You know, you can be named Janus." John says, half-giggling before he has even finished the sentence.

Anne erupts into laughter. It turns into a competition of who can think of the most ridiculous names and silly words then Max starts teaching the others how to swear in french. John digs up his knowledge of latin from when he went to a proper boys-only boarding school. Naturally he only remembers the lewd words. Eleanor smiles fondly. Anne starts beeping. 

"That's how you say fuck in morse." Anne says.

\----

Eleanor shakes her wet hands then dries them on her skirt. The automatic hand dryer is broken, of course. Max is in front of the mirror, applying another layer of her trademark eyeliner.  _Some things never change._  Even Max cannot manage to look completely put together though, after days away from civilisation. Her eyeliner is smudged and still looks raccoon-ish after getting refreshed. She has mud spattered on her calf.

Realising this is as good, as it is going to get, Max steps away from the mirror. She reaches out and plucks a small leaf from Eleanor's hair. They leave the gas station bathroom together. Outside Max links her arm with Eleanor. Her skin is soft and warm. Eleanor smiles, says something unimportant, and Max laughs. It is the most wonderful sound she has ever heard. 

"It is funny how easy this is. We have gone so long without each other yet here we are, slipping so comfortably into old patterns. Perhaps we just fit together." Max comments.

Eleanor nods and hopes the beginning twilight hides her blush.

\----

Max is snoring in the backseat. Something about the sound takes Eleanor back to when it was just the two of them, young and happy. She had just gotten her license. They had driven through the night away in a new car, not this one, kissed while the stars shone bright overhead and fallen asleep with their limbs tangled together. She looks back over her shoulder. Max rests against Anne's shoulder, drooling a little on her t-shirt. Their fingers are intertwined. Anne is half-awake, drowsy, but she catches Eleanor's eye and smiles at her, just for a second. Eleanor turns her attention back on the road. Her cheeks are unexplainably hot. She rolls down the window a little and breathes in the cold night air.

At the next rest stop, she pulls over. Even Eleanor Guthrie needs to sleep. She wakes a couple of hours later when John fumbles to unlock the door as he gets up to pee. She leans over to help then drifts off to sleep. Eleanor wakes again with the sunrise, grumpy and stiff.  _No more sleep for her_. She leaves the car quietly in search of coffee. Outside Max is reclining against a fence holding a huge cup of coffee. She waves Eleanor over and smiles. They lean against each other and pass Max' coffee back and forth. 

\----

It is peaceful in the car, everyone a little lost in their own minds. All the road signs point in the right direction, tells her that they are home soon. Eleanor turns on the windshield wiper, hoping to remove a particularly nasty bug. She wipes her sweaty palm on her skirt and grips the steering wheel.

"Eleanor, I just remembered. I wanted to tell you something." Max says. "I like your new haircut."

"Oh, thanks. I guess you haven't really seen it before." Eleanor says.

She runs a self-conscious hand through her short hair. Only Max can give compliments that sound both serious and sincere so effortlessly, but Max is the queen of making things seem effortless. She has always been. So many things have changed between, the hair seems like a minor detail, an afterthought. She can hardly remember how it looked when she was with Max. She feels like that sometimes, like her current situation is the only thing that has ever existed, everything before washed away and forgotten. Eleanor smiles. She wants to remember this. Some things have not changed. That is important.

\----

Max and Anne are talking quietly in the backseat. It is barely audible over the roar of the radio. Eleanor can make out words now and then, Max saying, peeing in the woods, and Anne laughing. She tries not to listen, feels bad for intruding on an intimate moment, or maybe she feels bad because she is not part of it. Eleanor ignores it all, focuses on the road. She strikes up a conversation with John. He is happy to talk about that time he won an entire pig in a charity lottery or when he got drunk and rode his bike straight into a lake. She laughs.

John's mostly true stories end up getting loud enough to capture Max and Anne too. Eleanor feels a little guilty about that, but a little satisfied too. She revels in the attention when she tells them about that time she started an illegal gambling ring in eight grade. Max knows the story, but she still laughs.

"Did I ever tell you about that time I got in a fistfight with a swan?" John says.

\----  

They are eating lunch at the roadside. Max picks dandelions and tries to remember how to make a flower crown. Anne is lying in the grass. Her bare feet poke at Eleanor's thighs. Eleanor rips out a handful of grass and throws it at Anne. Her aim is off, and it hits John who gasps, faux-offended. 

"Hey, I've been wondering why did you even go camping?" Eleanor asks. 

"Hiking." Anne corrects her.

"Well, Billy wanted to go sailing, his dad has a boat. I had to suggest something similar to persuade him away from the idea." John says. "I fucking hate the sea."

"By hate the sea do you mean you're terrified of sharks?" Max asks, innocently.

John glares daggers at her. Max sticks out her tongue. Eleanor wonders how these two became such good friends that Max would go camping with him, solely because John asked, because he wanted an ally by his side on his quest to seduce Billy Bones. Maybe there is more to John Silver than meets the eye. She hardly knows him, and most of her information comes from Flint, who is certainly not an unbiased source.

"Did you at least get to make with Billy before you tripped?" Eleanor asks.

John shakes his head and looks extraordinarily sad. Anne cheers him up by giving him a piggy-back ride around the car. Eleanor is once again impressed her strength.

\----

"I can't believe I forgot I packed this. I didn't even get to wear it." Anne says.

She is holding the ugliest headwear known to mankind. It is a bucket hat made from camouflage fabric, and embroidered on the front, in comic sans, are the words licensed ladykiller and a gun shooting a heart. Anne puts it on and smiles. Eleanor silently vows to buy Anne a nice hat for her birthday and also to find out when Anne's birthday even is.

"If you keep wearing that, I want a divorce." Max jokes, deadpan.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I love this hat. Jack got me this hat." Anne says. 

"Jack has a mullet, darling. Do you really want to take fashion advice from him?" Max replies.

Anne pulls her hat as far down as she can, it covers her eyes. She turns away from Max and huffs, crossing her arms. Max laughs and peppers kisses over her neck. Anne softens and pull Max closer. 

\----

The city is, impossibly, hotter than when she left it. A soft wind blows through to open window, but does little to cool her down. Eleanor is eternally frustrated that she cannot bend the powers of nature to her will. She feels like she could spontaneously burst into flames. The slow-moving traffic does not help. Apparently everyone is on their way home from the beach or from work.

Fifteen minutes later, though they felt like hours, she pulls up in front of the apartment building where Max lives. It lies in a narrow street with tall dusty building and dandelions poking up from cracks in the asphalt. Eleanor parallel-parks effortlessly between an ugly bottle-green car and a huge station wagon. Unlocking the trunk of her car feels like a victory. The others exit the car as if they have just woken from a dream and have not quite worked out how to make their bodies move. Anne rolls her shoulders. John winces when her stretching makes a loud popping sound. Anne laughs. 

"Thank you." Max says.

Her voice is so earnest, and Eleanor wants to say that it was nothing, that she would do it for anybody, but she cannot lie right now. She tries smiling instead. Max steps forward and wraps her arms around Eleanor. They hug like they have not in years. Max tilts her head upward and catches Eleanor's lips in a short kiss. Her heart beats so hard that she is sure Max can feel it through the embrace. They separate. Max goes to grab her backpack from the trunk. Eleanor stares into the air, dazed.

Anne walks up to her. She reaches out with a warm hand and clutches Eleanor's arm. Eleanor leans towards her, a little, and their shoulders bump. They stand like that in an awkward mix between a handshake and a hug, neither saying a word or looking at each other. Anne's fingers are sweaty, and Eleanor wants to tear herself away. Then Anne leans in and kisses her. It is more of a peck and lasts barely a second. Anne does not aim it quite right, and her lips hit part of Eleanor's cheek and the corner of her mouth. Eleanor cannot tell where the kiss was supposed to land. Perhaps Anne does not know either. Both take a huge step backwards as if they had planned it. Anne strides off to help Max with the luggage.

Eleanor's head is buzzing with thoughts, with new possibilities. She has no idea of what it all means. She looks anywhere but at Anne and Max, who are whispering together, and her eyes fall on John. When he notices her, he smirks and makes smooching motions with his lips and begins hobbling towards her.  _No fucking way._ She vehemently shakes her head. He laughs, and Eleanor laughs too, a little. She does not know where things are going, but she is looking forward to finding out.

 


End file.
